


three guys and lessons on botany

by rikacain



Category: Naruto
Genre: At least I think it's humor, Friends With Benefits, Humor, Konoha is just having a polyamorous dating or fucking culture okay, M/M, No shame no judgment no jealousy in this fic, Sex Mishaps, Watch me as i flip the mood from porn to humour to angst and back all over, also watch as i flip povs like nobody business, mentions of Naruto because I am a sucker for Naruto and Iruka's relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 10:19:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19149067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rikacain/pseuds/rikacain
Summary: Iruka is constantly frustrated. Tenzou's Mokuton malfunctions. Kakashi is (marginally) helpful.Or, why finding out you have a bloodline limit in the middle of getting some is an experience on its own, and the shenanigans just follow.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [drelfina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/drelfina/gifts).



> For drelfina, the worst (best) enabler ever.
> 
> Iruka looks so much like Hashirama without the scar? So the concept stuck in my head. 
> 
> Insert obligatory bitching about titles and summaries. I hate writing them. 
> 
> This is set in some limbo of a timeline because I am terrible at timelines. It also gives you mood whiplash because I want to be able to write things without constantly judging myself on whether it's perfect or not.

See, this thing he has with Tenzou -

It starts with Ichiraku, as most things do with Naruto and his tendency to gather up his favourite things all in one place: ramen, precious persons, and spending time with them. It's how Iruka came to meet Kakashi and consider him a friend-with-sometimes-benefits, and it's also how he comes to meet Yamato-san, serious and put-upon with Naruto's incessant demands for free ramen. It would reflect badly on Naruto to harass his team captain so, but Iruka has seen the weary yet fond smile mirroring his own, yet another person swept away by the tide that is Uzumaki Naruto, and relented.

Besides, Iruka's wallet is not bottomless, contrary to what Naruto's stomach wants to believe. Iruka is no saint - let others take some of the load. 

It starts with cordial conversation with Naruto as a buffer, and then days where Iruka strides in alone to find Yamato-san with his own bowl and an empty chair next to him (because Ichiraku is _that_ delicious) and an invitation for Iruka to join him for a pleasant dinner. It also continues with dinner at other restaurants (because Ichiraku may be that delicious but Iruka cannot subsist on ramen every day of the week), to the point where Yamato-san, under the quiet shade and redolent steam of an oden cart, tells Iruka to just call him Tenzou. 

And things led to things, Iruka supposes, and that's how he finds himself in bed with Tenzou for several times now. Tenzou as a bed partner is considerate, with a streak of cruelty applied timely and the good grace suffer through Iruka's own. If anything, Iruka himself has grown fond of the way Tenzou's eyes darken when Iruka pushes him against the couch and follows him down with a heated kiss, or how Tenzou's breath hitches whenever Iruka nips at the side of his throat. 

It's an easy-going relationship, Iruka admits, one where Iruka eventually gets comfortable enough to ask if Tenzou wouldn't mind tying him down with the Mokuton after hearing Naruto go on about the latest mission they've been on and completely forget that Konoha's possession of an incredibly rare form of chakra release was meant to be kept secret. Naruto is in many ways a terrible ninja (and in many more ways an excellent one, and Iruka can only swallow down his bursting pride and joy when he sees people respecting Naruto instead of shying away from him) and apparently incapable of keeping secrets. 

"Only if you're comfortable, of course," Iruka says in all seriousness as Tenzou stares, silent and contemplative in the wake of his request. Life as a shinobi does not mean an immediate preference towards aggression and violence in all parts of their lives, and some prefer to separate work and pleasure entirely. Iruka himself has never been opposed to a slow fuck. 

He flicks his eyes downwards, before smiling, slow and suggestive, "your Mokuton isn't the only wood I'm interested in."

Tenzou's lip barely twitches, before curving up in clear amusement. 

"That was terrible," he intones. Iruka laughs, loud and unrepentant, before reaching over to pull Tenzou in for a very normal kiss - but his wrist catches against something and he looks down, and. 

Well, that certainly isn't part of the headboard when he bought the frame. 

"Ah," he breathes out, and Tenzou's hand smooths over Iruka's jawline to cup his face, and turns it back to meet Tenzou's own for a kiss, filthy and demanding. Iruka grins into the kiss as he brings his other hand (still unrestrained, ha!) up to tug at Tenzou’s hair. Before Iruka can even touch a strand, a vine snakes up the length of his arm, bark sliding rough across Iruka’s skin. It tugs his wrist backwards to meet the other, and Iruka feels the vine unfurl to accommodate two wrists, together, before settling into its new shape, unyielding.

Tenzou draws back, darkly satisfied, and doesn’t bother to hide his smirk when Iruka strains against his bindings to chase after the kiss.

“Was this what you imagined?” He inquires lightly, all cheek now that he’s in control. He puts a hand over the flat pane of Iruka’s chest and pushes him up against the headboard, and the position that Iruka is tied in doesn’t afford him the leverage to offer more than a token resistance - not that Iruka wants to, the way this night is heading. 

“I certainly imagined more than being tied down by my wrists,” Iruka asserts, and hooks a leg behind Tenzou’s back to pull him closer. Tenzou comes willingly, shifting his hand onto the headboard and mouthing at the side of Iruka’s throat, gentle with the occasional nip.

And Iruka would marvel at the Mokuton’s versatility, the way the wood parts and reforms to allow Tenzou to arrange Iruka's body in any particular way he wants without breaking away from whatever he’s doing, whether it’s kissing Iruka or finger-fucking him into the mattress - if Tenzou isn't taking his own sweet time about it. Perhaps the vulnerability of being pinned down is allowing Tenzou to indulge in being contrary when Iruka can’t do anything about it but beg, to appreciate Iruka cursing at him in one breath and moaning loud and low in another - but there is tension, and there’s _tension_ , because if Tenzou doesn’t fuck Iruka, right now, Iruka is going to pull his own arms right out of their sockets.

“Fuck me already,” Iruka snarls, trying to twist his hips down for the slick slide of Tenzou’s three fingers. Unfortunately, his effort are impeded by the vines coiled around his thighs, holding them conveniently apart for Tenzou to sit between them.

Tenzou, thrice-damned and high on control, tells him, “patience.”

The sound Iruka makes is incoherent in the message he wants to convey. Maybe Tenzou's trying to see how many fingers he can fit, or maybe even a whole fist, but Iruka wants Tenzou's cock up his ass more than he wants the stretch and burn of something too big and he wants it some time today. He’s strung tight, his arms pinned upwards against the headboard with legs spread apart, and in no position to do anything about it - and although the still rational part of him tells him that when Tenzou does fuck him it would be mind-blowing, there’s literally no reason for Tenzou to not do it now.

“Tenzou,” Iruka says, or begs, really, “Tenzou, please,” and keens in anticipation when Tenzou drags the fingers out, dripping slick and shiny in the dim light, because finally, finally -

Just to see the cruel, cruel glint in Tenzou’s eyes as he shoves them back in.

There’s no denying the jerk of Iruka’s body as Tenzou presses mercilessly on Iruka’s prostate, and in hindsight Iruka might have enjoyed whatever Tenzou was about to plan next. Still, three fingers do not comprise a cock, and the electricity shooting up his spine screams in tandem the need to have these vines off him so he can just shove Tenzou down and ride him.

 _Off_ , Iruka curses at the vines and -

And suddenly he’s free, the bindings around his arms and legs gone. Iruka surges forward to push Tenzou down onto the mattress, flat on his back and spread-eagled. There’s a rustling sound all around them, rough bark brushing against rough bark, and Iruka bares his teeth in a grin as Tenzou stares up at him, wide-eyed and breathless.

“I told you to fuck me,” Iruka says, almost feral with frustration, sinks down onto Tenzou’s cock and _uses_ him.

Maybe this was Tenzou’s actual plan, Iruka thinks hazily through the heat and friction and sweat as he grinds down into Tenzou’s lap, lifting himself up and sliding back down, over and over. All part of his supposed plan to wind Iruka up enough, let him loose to chase his own pleasure and enjoy the show. Tenzou himself isn’t doing anything, not even grabbing Iruka by his hips as he likes to do when Iruka rides him - but Iruka’s less concerned about Tenzou’s participation and more of his own now that he’s granted back his range of movement. 

For all that Iruka cares in the very heat of the moment, Tenzou could just lie down there and let Iruka take whatever he needs.

“See if you tease me next time,” Iruka gasps out.

Tenzou groans, long and low. It goes straight to Iruka’s cock, and he grins breathlessly down at Tenzou, leaning over to put his hands on Tenzou’s shoulders for leverage, for a better angle to fuck himself with. With how Tenzou’s been teasing him the past few minutes, it doesn’t take much for Iruka to curl over Tenzou’s form and come with a moan, stripes of cum splattered high and sticky across Tenzou’s abdomen and chest. Tenzou follows after him only seconds after, quiet in his release as always.

They lie on the mattress, Iruka draped over Tenzou with the latter’s softening cock in him. If this is sex with the Mokuton, then Iruka wouldn’t mind a repeat performance in the future - with far less teasing and more fucking, of course. 

“Iruka,” Tenzou murmurs. Iruka hums in reply, turning his face into the crook of Tenzou’s neck and breathing in sweat and musk. “I think… don’t panic, but we might need some assistance.”

Iruka’s eyes fly wide open. He sits up, a demand of  _what kind of assistance_ right on the tip of his tongue - but Tenzou remains lying on the bed, holding himself far too still and calm. There are vines growing out of his bed frame and twisted around Tenzou’s arms, and the carved headboard of Iruka's bed has warped and molded itself around Tenzou’s feet much like wooden socks.

Now, Iruka isn’t particularly attached to his bed frame considering he found it at a second-hand store and selected it on the grounds that it was the cheapest, but he squawks nonetheless: “What did you do to my bed?!"

“About that."

“And why did you - why are you still tied up?” His mind is still circling around the fact that bed frames aren’t cheap and he doesn’t have the time to go thrift store shopping tomorrow. He planned to sleep in. “What - if you're - if you can’t control it during sex you could have said no!”

“Iruka-sensei,” Tenzou says sharply. Iruka bites down on the impending lecture about consent and safe sex and how he would have been perfectly fine just fucking Tenzou without the Mokuton. "Just - could you please call Kakashi-senpai?"

"Kakashi?" Iruka repeats, incredulous. 

"Yes," Tenzou says, his tone incredibly level and patient despite being tied down. Calm, confident, in charge. "Could you, please?"

"Alright." Iruka breathes out, and gets up to put on a clean yukata. It would be useful if he had the chakra capable of supporting a kage bunshin or two, able to run over to the jounin barracks to convey his message. As it is, Iruka would have to make the trip himself. He drapes a towel over Tenzou's nether regions to preserve his modesty, even if he suspects that much like Iruka's own relationship with Kakashi Tenzou is also fucking his senpai on the side. 

He doesn't know how many people Tenzou has fucked, but from the use of the Mokuton Iruka's willing to put money on it being used on Kakashi at least once. If anything, Kakashi would probably know what to do. 

"I'll be right back," he tells Tenzou. He then feels immediately foolish. It's not like Tenzou could go anywhere after all. Tenzou nods, if only towards the ceiling. 

Kakashi had better be in his apartment, Iruka thinks grudgingly, because Iruka is not going to run through the entire village in only his yukata even if it's the middle of summer. With that happy thought, Iruka sets off. 

* * *

Kakashi takes one look at Tenzou on the bed and says mildly, “if you wanted a threesome, sensei, you could have just said.”

“I did not,” Iruka splutters - but Kakashi is already briskly striding towards the bed and not in the way of someone who’s about to engage in sexual intimacy, no. Iruka is quite familiar with how Kakashi looks like when he’s about to fuck someone, especially from a perspective on the bed.

“Senpai,” Tenzou sighs, long-suffering. 

“It’s not like you can’t remove yourself from your own Mokuton, Tenzou,” Kakashi says, his shoulder moving up in a lazy shrug - and then stills. “Your chakra points, they’re blocked?”

“Not quite,” Tenzou says. “It’s the wood. It’s not reacting.”

“Not reacting,” Kakashi repeats.

Iruka catches on a moment later - an element, once charged with chakra, would be unlikely to respond to another person’s chakra unless overpowered and redirected. Basic chakra theory: it’s why people usually jump out of the way of a fireball instead of expending the chakra to hurl it back at the caster. It would explain why Tenzou can't put Iruka’s bed back as it was.

But it wouldn’t explain _whose_ chakra.

“You’re the only Mokuton user,” Iruka says.

“Apparently not,” Kakashi says coolly, the shift from laid-back amusement to alert shinobi seamless. “You didn’t feel any killing intent?”

“None,” Tenzou confirms, and Iruka nods with him. He might be village-bound, but he certainly isn’t complacent enough to keep on having sex when there’s killing intent directed at them. 

Kakashi hums. 

“I’d ask if you tied yourself down, but it really doesn’t look like your work.” He gestures at the bindings, and Iruka suddenly recalls the way the vine melds back into the grain of the wood under Tenzou's control, like it has never existed. The rough curve of the bindings looks nothing like that particular, with bark appearing in rough patches like wooden scabs. “What happened exactly?”

“I tied Iruka-sensei down with the Mokuton,” Tenzou says, his tone one of delivering a clipped report. “Then suddenly it let him go and turned on me.” 

Iruka sucks in a sharp breath, because, it meant -

“It was still consensual,” Tenzou hurriedly assures him, his voice going soft - even if the assurance is dampened by how Tenzou is still bound on the bed. “Iruka - “

“It let him go?” Kakashi cuts in.

“Yes,” Tenzou says slowly. Kakashi turns his gaze on Iruka, considering, and Iruka feels like he’s being scrutinized. “I, I was. I was teasing him.”

“He doesn’t take well to too much teasing,” Kakashi comments, almost disinterestedly, but the gleam in his eye belies his tone and Iruka remembers when Kakashi did just that a few weeks ago. Kakashi had opted to lick him open after Iruka had already come, and his tongue against Iruka’s over-sensitized nerves like molten heat. Iruka had been too boneless to return the favor, but it did not stop him from breathlessly promising to do so the next time, and delivering on that promise. “The question is, why did it let you go?”

How would Iruka even know? He’s not the one who can control plants. He opens his mouth to say so, but Kakashi is suddenly in his space, crowding him up against the wall. 

“I don’t suppose you’re related to the Senjus, Iruka-sensei,” Kakashi says lightly even as his eye bores into Iruka’s own. “Did anyone ever tell you that you resemble the Shodaime?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Iruka scoffs. Related to the Shodaime, the very notion! 

“Your family came from Uzushio,” Kakashi points out. “And some of the Senjus married into the Uzumaki clan before they came to Konoha as refugees. Their descendants could have married into your clan.”

“I think I would know.” Being related to a renowned clan is something that happened in children’s stories - and Iruka has never wanted to be one, not when he wanted his own parents over any other imaginary ones.

“Would you really?" Kakashi remains in his space, searching Iruka’s features for something, something to link Iruka to the famed Senjus. "All the clan records were destroyed in the Uzushio invasion, weren’t they?”

“Senpai,” Tenzou says.

“Are you certain,” Kakashi presses - and Iruka isn't going to stand here and let Kakashi question his lineage when Iruka called him over to help Tenzou, who is still confined to the bed. "Iruka - "

"I don't have the Mokuton," Iruka snaps at Kakashi, and otherwise he would use it to knock some sense into Kakashi's thick head, right now -

And something whips past his face and towards Kakashi's head, or the space where Kakashi's head was after Kakashi ducks, before falling to the ground with a dull thud. Something brown and covered in patches of bark, just like the vines trapping Tenzou, twisting out of the door frame Iruka had been leaning against. 

"Tenzou?" Iruka asks weakly. 

"That wasn't me," Tenzou says, disbelief dragging his words slow and uncertain. 

Iruka turns to look at Kakashi displaced to the other side of the room - his Sharingan open, the black tomoes swirling in Iruka's direction. Slowly, slowly, Kakashi looks at the vine, at Iruka, and then blinks. 

“The chakra’s yours, sensei,” Kakashi says, final. “Looks like you have a Mokuton after all.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the double update but.... having one chapter be 5K words and another be 2.5K words _irks_ me so... hahhaha.

The next hour goes by slowly, at least for Tenzou who can only stare up at the ceiling or turn his head to the right to stare at Iruka, who is currently devolving into almost-hysterics even if he refuses to admit it. On his left, Kakashi is looking at the mess of woody vines holding Tenzou’s hand hostage.

“I’m in my twenties,” Iruka bursts out.

“Means you’re a late bloomer,” Kakashi says easily. He squints down at a whorl in the wood, his sharingan still spinning lazily in his eye. 

“Who's ever heard of a late bloomer in their twenties?” Iruka scoffs weakly. Kakashi only shrugs at him.

“You just got a little bit lost on the road of life then,” he says carelessly. “Tenzou, can you clench your hand into a fist?”

“No, senpai,” Tenzou says.

“Hm.”

“My chakra affinity is water!” Iruka continues.

“You mean the chakra paper test?” Kakashi says. “That's only for your strongest elemental affinity, isn’t it? You can have more than one, sensei.”

“I know that,” Iruka snaps. “I - I mean, my earth jutsus, they’re not. They’re not as strong as my water or even fire jutsus.” The Mokuton is essentially a combination of both earth and water releases, after all. 

“Doesn’t mean you don’t have an affinity for them,” Kakashi points out, entirely too logical. Yet another excuse shot down, and Tenzou watches it die as Iruka’s frustration rises. Kakashi is being quite patient with Iruka, he realizes, and he doesn’t know whether it’s a mark of their relationship or Kakashi knowing of Iruka’s predilection for blowing his top. 

“If I have the Mokuton,” Iruka says after an obvious endeavor to wrangle his temper down, and Tenzou sees the quirk of Kakashi’s lips when Iruka says ‘if’. To Kakashi and his eye, the wood must be infused with Iruka’s chakra to make him so certain of Iruka’s new ability. “If I have it, then why can’t I get Tenzou out of… that.” 

He gestures emphatically towards the bed.

“You tried?” Kakashi inquired.

“I tried to shout at it in my head,” Iruka admits, and Tenzou realizes oh, that's why Iruka went silent and still earlier, while staring almost murderously at Tenzou. The only saving grace is that there had been absolutely no killing intent leaking out of Iruka then. It had been slightly discomfiting, except Kakashi’s bony knees poking into his side had been far more uncomfortable.

“That is strange,” Kakashi says, and Tenzou can see how Iruka latches onto that one admission, that possibility that Iruka doesn’t have the Mokuton - until Kakashi continues, “except you’ve never learnt the seals to use the Mokuton, so you couldn’t possibly control it yet.”

“I controlled it enough to do that, didn’t I?” Iruka says hotly.

“Lucky chakra release,” Kakashi says dismissively, like Iruka is some pre-genin unable to control their own chakra. Tenzou takes back his previous statements about Kakashi’s supposed affection for Iruka - he swears Kakashi is just saying this to rile up Iruka even further. Iruka flushes red, to the tip of his ears, and if Tenzou doesn’t know of the impending explosion he might even call it cute.

Huh. Well, there’s a thought.

“Why are you so opposed to the Mokuton anyway?” Kakashi continues before Iruka can burst into a tirade. “It’s just another weapon, sensei. Another kunai in your holster, so to say.”

Was it so terrible to have the Mokuton, Tenzou wonders. He’s known pity and envy and fear on the other side, but never about the Mokuton itself. Tenzou had been slightly anticipatory with his joy even, to know that there is someone else who shares the Mokuton with him, to be in a subset of more than one.  He had always thought that his Mokuton, a pale imitation of the Shodaime’s own, an abomination from its false origin - but indisputably valuable, undeniably useful. But for the Mokuton itself to be this reviled? Over all the meals and in all the time they had spent together, Iruka has been so sincere in his intentions and actions, and he had been the one to propose Tenzou using the Mokuton on him… 

But maybe it's one thing to fuck a monster and another to be one entirely.

Tenzou turns his head away from Iruka to stare up at the ceiling instead. He doesn’t want to see what Iruka’s face looks like when twisted in loathing. He doesn’t want to see how Iruka looks when he hates.

Iruka himself goes quiet. Miracle of miracles Kakashi does not goad him, instead reaching over to knock speculatively at a spot on the frame.

“I don’t want to be Senju,” Iruka finally says. 

Tenzou almost gets a crick in his neck from how fast he turns to look at Iruka. He's looking away, at anywhere else rather than looking Tenzou or Kakashi in the eye, and the hunched set of his shoulders makes him look small. Withdrawn. 

It does not suit him, Tenzou decides and almost wishes that he could reach out and comfort the man. 

“I… if I have the Mokuton," he continues. "If it’s the Shodaime’s Mokuton - people, they’re going to talk, aren’t they? They’ll look at me and they’ll see someone related to the Senjus.  

“The Senjus - Tsunade-sama is powerful, yes, and so were the Shodaime and Nidaime - but I just. I just want to be known as Umino. Our legacy - my parents’ legacy is small compared to whatever the Senjus have accomplished - but it’s ours. It’s mine. I don’t want - I don’t want the Senju’s.”

Iruka breathes out, as if to say more, but ultimately subsides. And Tenzou can’t quite relate, not when he never had a legacy except for the deeds he’s done in the name of Konoha or Root - if he has any, then it has been chosen by others. He’s learnt to appreciate things he’s been given: his names, his place in the village - but choice is important, it seems, to Iruka.

To his credit, Kakashi doesn’t say anything like “that’s silly” or “of course they won’t see you as a Senju”, not when he bore the weight of Hatake Sakumo’s name and deeds for the most of his childhood. There is no choice in who people choose to associate you with. But maybe it’s because Kakashi has seen both the hopelessness in having no choice and the significance of making one when you do, he says:

“Maybe people will consider you Senju.” He pauses, almost considering, and Tenzou wonders if Kakashi saw this, underneath the underneath of Iruka’s protests and panic. If this is the true cause of his patience. “Maybe those who don’t know you would, at least. But our legacy is written by those who remember us - especially as a teacher.

“Maybe you’ll have Senju blood in you, but your students will remember you for what you taught them. And if that’s your legacy, and your father and mother’s legacy - well, then. They’ll remember you as Umino.”

Iruka closes his eyes, and bows his head - but the line of his shoulders ease, just a bit, and Tenzou finds it slightly easier to breathe.

“Right,” Kakashi says, his tone suddenly all too cheerful, sending warning bells ringing through Tenzou’s sense for Kakashi when he’s about to do something entirely uncomfortable. “Tenzou, don't move.”

“What - “ Tenzou exclaims to the chakra-infused fist rushing towards the vines trapping his left hand. The wood splinters into pieces, scattering all over the room as Iruka yelps in surprise.

“Looks like I won’t need Chidori,” Kakashi observes to the background of Iruka’s incensed yelling. “Only three more limbs to go!”

* * *

"Beds are expensive," Iruka moans as he sweeps up the remnants of the bed frame. Never mind that it had been at most utilitarian - the bed frame was an investment upwards of sleeping on a futon every night. He had paid out of his savings for it. "I paid for that bed."

"That's what happens when you buy stuff, yes," Kakashi says, terrible unsympathetic bastard that he is. A bastard who has a bed when he goes home later tonight. Iruka slants him a narrow-eyed glare, and Kakashi’s eye curves at him in an affectation of innocence.

_Hit him on the head_ , Iruka thinks intently at the window frame next to Kakashi - wooden and entirely unresponsive. _Dammit, hit him on the head!_

In a turn of events that surprises absolutely no one: nothing happens.

“Fuck,” Iruka says feelingly, and his next sweep of the broom is slightly more violent than warranted.

“Maybe after you’re done sweeping,” Kakashi suggests. For the sake of his own sanity, Iruka ignores him.

Tenzou, who has been rubbing feeling back into his wrists after his impromptu restraint, offers: “I could build you a new bed?"

And Iruka could kiss Tenzou right now, he really could, but his hair and yukata have slivers of wood clinging onto them. Any embrace involving them is bound to be less than comfortable. He settles for a, "that would be appreciated, thank you very much - "

Only to have Kakashi suggest, “or you could grow your own.” 

Iruka turns to _look_ at him, and Kakashi gestures at the remnants of Iruka’s bed. “You need to learn how to use it anyway. It’ll be good practice.”

“It’s in the middle of the night,” Iruka says flatly.

“It’s a Friday.” Iruka is going to smack that grin under Kakashi’s mask right off his face, don’t think he won’t. “You sleep in on Saturday mornings,” and the leer is unmistakable, especially in light of the many Saturdays Iruka has woken up to Kakashi sliding back into bed for a morning round, lazy and unhurried. Morning afters with Tenzou tend towards amiability, with Tenzou acquiring breakfast for the both of them. The point is, they both know Iruka keeps his Saturday mornings free, and the night is not yet so late to protest his need for sleep.

“Maybe I have to go shopping for a new bed tomorrow morning.” Iruka grumbles anyway, just to be contrary.

“Or you could learn to control it now before you accidentally grow trees out of random wooden objects all over the place.” Kakashi widens his eye in mock surprise. “How much wood do you think there is in Konoha, sensei?”

All over the place: wooden beams and floorboards and shelves, in every house and home and building. It’s jarring to be suddenly aware of how much wood there is all around them, big and small pieces above and under and in their surroundings, and that’s not even counting the forest giving Konoha its namesake of the hidden village in the leaves. 

“It is rather late,” Tenzou interrupts, entirely polite and considerate unlike a certain person - but the way he looks at Iruka is almost hopeful, the way a cat would glance at your food before returning to their impassivity. And Iruka has imposed on Tenzou so much, by tying him up for a good part of the night and making him suffer through the indignity of Kakashi’s presence, so...

“Fine,” Iruka gives in. If anything, his budget does not include compensation for property damage. He glowers one last time at Kakashi before smiling wryly at Tenzou. “Let me sweep up the rest of this, then you can show me the hand seals.”

“Of course, Iruka-sensei,” Tenzou says, nodding just the once.

“I’m the one who’s supposed to call you sensei now,” Iruka tells him, and the faint pink that dusts across Tenzou’s cheeks is more than gratifying. He sweeps the pile of slivers he had gathered into a mound onto the dustpan, before carrying it out of the room.

“Kinky,” he hears Kakashi comment, and Tenzou’s own long sigh in reply.

* * *

The first try… is well, disappointing.

Iruka’s hand seals are textbook perfect, albeit slightly slow. In a battle, it’s a disadvantage - but Iruka doesn’t fight but teach pre-genin with underdeveloped reaction times how to channel their chakra. Nevertheless, Kakashi finds himself slightly impatient whenever he watches Iruka forms the seals, because in the time that Iruka forms one Kakashi would have already formed three.

But the point is, Iruka’s hand seals are entirely correct, which means the activation of the corresponding chakra points are in turn also correct. Tenzou certainly isn’t teaching him the incorrect seals, having demonstrated by molding Iruka’s chair into growing an extra leg and restoring it to its former four-legged shape upon Iruka’s stricken expression. By all rights, Iruka is doing exactly the same things as Tenzou, down the very same chakra points - so there’s really no explanation that instead of growing an extra leg, the chair grows a wobbly formless bump on the side of the seat.

“I think keeping a clear picture in your mind helps,” Tenzou ventures hesitantly.

Iruka, clearly disappointed in both his possession of the Mokuton and his inability to wield it from the way he’s eyeing the bump as if it’s personally offended him, nods and tries again.

By the fifth attempt, it’s clear that something is wrong. The chair is now wobbly from the uneven distribution of weight, with five misshapen lumps growing out from its side. Tenzou’s face is still, a sure sign that he’s highly uncomfortable and is probably blaming himself for being unable to teach Iruka the foundations of a release he’s supposedly the master of. On the other hand, Iruka’s face is pinched. It’s one thing to know that expectations for immediate mastery of a new technique is preposterous, and it’s entirely another to be so terrible at even the basics of molding a block out of an element.

“I’m sorry,” Tenzou suddenly says.

“It’s not your fault, Tenzou,” Iruka says firmly, even if a bit wearily. 

“No, I mean.” Tenzou shifts - definitely uncomfortable. “My Mokuton, it’s not… It’s not real. Maybe that’s why it’s not working?”

“Not real,” Iruka repeats, frowning. 

“I wasn’t born with the Mokuton,” Tenzou explains - but he has told Kakashi before, once over a shared bottle of sake, that he doesn’t remember not having the Mokuton. His earliest memory was staring out at the laboratory from inside his tube. “It’s… I was… The Shodaime’s cells were implanted into me, so it’s not actually a real Mokuton?”

“I see,” Iruka says dubiously with the tone of one who, in fact, did not see. Tenzou nods miserably from across him. “How did you learn to use the Mokuton then?”

Tenzou opens his mouth, then closes it. 

"He learnt it from a scroll," Kakashi says, cutting in smoothly. Any mention of Danzo or Tenzou's time in Root would be likely to activate the cursed seal on Tenzou's tongue, which would be even more complicated to explain to Iruka, who likely has no idea of Root's existence. For all of Root's claims of disbandment, Kakashi and Tenzou both know that Danzo would be less than willing to give up his personal army - and less than willing to let anyone who knows about it live. 

They also know if Iruka catches wind of Root's preference for young impressionable minds (all the better to brainwash with), he might be tempted to act rashly. Kakashi doesn't doubt that Iruka is capable of patience, but he doesn't trust that Iruka would not take it into his own hands to attempt something against the organisation. 

"The Shodaime left records about his Mokuton," Tenzou says slowly, testing the waters of the cursed seal. To their mutual relief, it does not activate. 

"Ah," Iruka says, blissfully ignorant of things beyond his knowledge - then sighs dejectedly. "If that's the case, it doesn't matter if your Mokuton is fake. Since you could learn from that scroll."

Tenzou stares balefully at Kakashi for telling Iruka about the scroll. Kakashi shrugs back at him - what is he supposed to say then?

“I suppose I have to train my earth release,” Iruka finally says, unenthusiastic. He dusts his hands off on his yukata and runs a hand through his hair - it comes away with quite a number of slivers, at which Iruka makes a face at. They all need a bath of their own, Kakashi reflects as he reaches up a hand to pluck at a sliver clinging to his hair - at least he was lucky enough to still be in his mission slacks when Iruka came calling.

Where Iruka would find such time to train anyway, between his Academy duties and mission shifts? Kakashi would offer - but he also has Naruto’s training to oversee, and the same goes for Tenzou. Iruka would have to do the bulk of the training on his own time, when the best either of them can do is give pointers. Furthermore, Naruto at least has the benefit of his shadow clones to expedite his learning process - but Iruka definitely neither has the chakra pools nor the time to follow in Naruto’s footsteps. It'll likely take months before Iruka could master earth release, especially when it’s not his main elemental affinity.

…unless Kakashi can incentivize him.

“Senpai,” Tenzou says. Tenzou who knows him far too well. Kakashi rearranges his expression - well, his visible expression - to be more innocent, but from the dubious look Tenzou shoots him it’s not as effective as he’d like it to be.

Neither is it effective on Iruka, who shoots him a suspicious glare.

“You’re not ambushing me in the middle of the night for training,” Iruka says, rightfully wary.

“Maa, sensei,” Kakashi drawls, if only to see Iruka get more wound up. He’s so easy, Kakashi marvels. “I don’t have that much free time."

Besides, it’s not exactly training that Kakashi has in mind. Not at all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At one point, I was like, oh no this chapter is too short, it's only 4K words.
> 
> And then I realised I could.... split the chapters up gg me. I'll split the first chapter into two, too - for consistency's sake.

Tenzou obligingly grows Iruka a new bed that very night. Iruka shows his gratitude a week later by breaking in the bed with him, with Tenzou at clutching at its edges as Iruka swallows around his cock. It's also fairly sturdy, much more so than his previous bed - a fact Iruka happily confirms by screwing Tenzou into the mattress, repeatedly.

For all his protests, having a Mokuton ultimately has not affected his life. He hasn’t told anyone about his new ability, not even Anko - and those aware seem to respect his wish for privacy. He’s also been trying to find the time to work on both his earth release and the Mokuton, but between every other kid attempting to be the next reigning prankster of Konoha and the bullshit Iruka has to face from shinobis of all levels with every excuse to not hand in a proper mission report, there’s barely any time to breathe, let alone mold some dirt. He’d feel bad about it, except that he’s also making his own (very valid) excuses to shower and topple into bed at the end of the day, too tired to even think about training.

And when he does attempt some training, the pile of soil and the lumps of wood on his now incredibly misshapen chair are just incredibly demotivating Iruka elects to just… do literally anything else.

It’s not like he wants to make jounin or even tokujou. That requires more missions than he's willing to take, and Iruka likes his job at the Academy, even if he gripes constantly about the terrible pay. In any case, there's really no pressing need for Iruka to learn the Mokuton effective immediately, and with Kakashi and Tenzou wholly focusing on Naruto's training Iruka is content to just coast along.

He hasn't had any chakra mishaps with it so far too! The exercise done on the very first day has at least made him aware of which chakra points to avoid blasting his chakra out of if he doesn't want a sudden and exponential growth in the furniture. Kakashi would be incorrigibly smug if Iruka lets him know about his good call - but Kakashi probably already knew it was a good call and would be incorrigibly smug nonetheless.

( _They'll remember you as Umino_ , Kakashi had said, serious and solemn before he wasn't. For all that Iruka knows it might not hold true - but he wants to trust in Kakashi, in his words. He does trust Kakashi, in this.)

It’s another Friday evening when Iruka is eating alone at Ichiraku that Kakashi slides into the seat next to him. Iruka’s more surprised to see Tenzou, who sits down on Iruka’s other side after touching his shoulder and murmuring, “sensei,” in polite greeting.

“May we join you?” Kakashi says, a glint in his eye, and Iruka suddenly _knows_.

“Only if we get drinks after at my place,” he offers. He's pleased to see the sharp nod in return.

“If you insist, sensei,” Kakashi agrees, and Tenzou’s hand remains a warm, steady weight on Iruka’s shoulder.

Dinner goes by smoothly, with Iruka wanting to know how Naruto is doing even if Naruto accosted him the other day for free ramen. It’s a point of pride to see Naruto working tirelessly on his mastery of chakra when pre-genin Naruto had to be tied down in order to even focus on anything - and Iruka only regrets not being a better teacher for Naruto when he clearly had different needs. Sometimes he wonders how Naruto can look at Iruka and call him one of his precious people when Iruka has failed him for most of his life.

He doesn’t tell Kakashi or Tenzou this, of course, choosing to laugh when Kakashi describes a training mishap or another, or lean close in concern when he hears Naruto has exhausted himself again. Tenzou provides his own comments, of his own views on Naruto’s attitude or abilities, some of them humorously deprecating but mostly positive. It’s a comfortable conversation when the topic turns from Naruto to Iruka’s own training.

“So, sensei,” Kakashi drawls over his bowl of miso soup. His mask is down, loose around his neck - but Iruka has no doubt that if Naruto or Sakura suddenly stumbles into the stall the mask would immediately go back up. “How has your training been?”

“Well, I’ve been busy,” Iruka starts, but Tenzou is suddenly looking at him hopefully and a sense of guilt washes over Iruka.

“But I managed to do some training,” he finally waffles.

He’s not lying. He did some. Slightly. A little.

“Is that so,” Kakashi hums, and Iruka hopes Kakashi isn’t reading into the whole 'underneath the underneath’ situation right now because there’s only disappointment to be found. “That’s good to hear, isn’t it, Tenzou?”

Tenzou nods, and Iruka nods right after him because of course it’s good to hear. Of course. Hopefully they won’t want to see it, because so far he’s only been able to arrange the dirt into various crumbly patterns and not actually solidify it. Dirt in the eye is a common tactic, that is true, but earth release is meant for more than just throwing dirt at people’s faces.

“We’ll be happy to give you some pointers if you ever need some,” Tenzou offers.

Would Tenzou ever be assigned his own genin team? He’d have to be given students who are eager to learn if he’s this enthusiastic of a teacher. Iruka can almost imagine the way Tenzou would wilt if his students were dismissive of his lessons.

He’d wilt now if Iruka rejects his offer, so Iruka smiles at him and says, “I’ll definitely ask you then.”

The walk back to Iruka’s apartment is comfortable, if not anticipatory. He’s sandwiched in between Kakashi and Tenzou, and there’s no doubt where the night is going with the sly glances they’re all sharing, the heat of their shoulders pressed together and the warmth of Tenzou’s hand burning at the curve of Iruka’s hip. Iruka himself is getting touchier, a hand curled around Kakashi’s arm, and the smile he flashes at Tenzou has the other man blushing pink and vivid.

He pours them drinks in his kitchen as they take turns taking quick showers in his bathroom. When Iruka steps out of the bathroom after his own with his hair damp and framing his face, the drinks are all but forgotten as Kakashi steps into Iruka’s space and pulls him in for a kiss. He feels Tenzou’s hand on his ass moments later, and the bulk of Tenzou's body pressing Kakashi into Iruka, the air between the three of them heated and electric.

Why haven’t they done this before? Iruka really should have propositioned the both of them for a threesome long ago.

“Are you up for being tied up tonight, Iruka?” Kakashi asks after a while, his mouth brushing against Iruka’s own. Tenzou, who had been licking at Kakashi’s neck, tilts his head up inquisitively at the question, catching Iruka’s eyes with guileless hope.

Those eyes are really effective, Iruka thinks - but he’s faced multitudes of children with the same expression. The trick is in not caving immediately.

“Only if you make it good,” he challenges.

Kakashi grins, but it’s Tenzou that says, “of course, sensei.”

They drift naturally over to the bed, Iruka's knees going slightly weak at the way Kakashi licks into Iruka's mouth and how Tenzou slips a hand between their bodies and jerks the both of them off simultaneously. It ends with Tenzou asking for Iruka's hands, and the brush of vines curling into place, pinning Iruka's hands right in front of his chest almost as if Iruka is praying.

So it takes Iruka by surprise when Tenzou retreats to a chair grown in the corner of the room instead of pushing him down and having his way with Iruka.

Kakashi plants himself in between Iruka's legs, eyes gleaming dark and hungry.

"Pop quiz time," he announces.

Of all things that he could have expected Kakashi to say, it certainly isn't _that_.

* * *

The goal is simple. Get out of the vines, otherwise suffer.

"Suffer through what," Iruka demands, wild-eyed and imperious.

“Well,” Kakashi says, effecting a pose of thinking thoughts. Approximately no one in the room is fooled. “I suppose there are so many things we can do…”

Iruka makes a strangled sound of frustration - a sound cut short when Tenzou directs a tendril, more young twig than sturdy branch, to brush against his exposed nipple. He turns to glare in Tenzou’s direction instead, to which Tenzou tilts his head in affected innocence.

“You’re in on this too, Tenzou,” Iruka accuses him, sounding unreasonably betrayed.

“I had to convince him a little,” Kakashi says, bringing the full brunt of Iruka’s ire back onto him. “But we both wanted to know how you were doing on your training,” which is true, Tenzou did want to know even if he suspected Iruka didn’t quite get around to doing any for all of his blustering, “and whether you needed some encouragement.”

“I’m plenty encouraged.”

“That’s great!” Kakashi beams at Iruka. Tenzou has never known someone who elects feelings of immense anger when they smile as much as Kakashi. “You can show us what you’ve learnt. But surely it'll be too easy for you, so…”

Kakashi slides down and licks a line up to the crease of Iruka’s thigh, before looking up at Iruka. “We’ll be providing some distraction.”

Iruka’s breath hitches. Tenzou considers it a sign that their activities for the night are green-lit. If Iruka is truly opposed, he would have used his safeword by now.

“Don’t forget the hand seals, Iruka,” Tenzou says, and just to remind him he has the twig flick again, for that shudder.

"Mm, don't forget the hand seals," Kakashi agrees as he spreads Iruka's legs wider, the half-hard cock right in front of his face.

“I’ll show you hand seals,” Iruka grumbles, but the breathiness to his voice is telling. Tenzou loosens the binding around Iruka's wrists, allowing Iruka to form the seals (tiger, snake, textbook perfect) and the brush of chakra against his own is almost like a caress - even if the bindings remain where they are, unyielding. It really is unfair to Iruka to have him override Tenzou’s chakra when Tenzou is fully focused on keeping him there - but Tenzou isn’t here to be fair, and neither is Kakashi.

“You remembered,” Tenzou praises nonetheless. Acknowledgement of effort made is important in the learning process. Iruka flushes from the praise. “Again.”

Iruka forms the seals, again - only to jerk in place when Kakashi takes the head of his cock into his mouth. The chakra builds and slides away, scattering away from the vines. Tenzou tuts aloud.

“Again,” he orders, and the curl of heat in his gut warms him as Iruka forms the tiger seal again, as Iruka’s hand spasms the further his cock slips further down Kakashi’s throat.

It takes all of Tenzou’s discipline to not move from the chair, to not stride over to the bed and lick the line of Iruka’s throat as he throws his head back from Kakashi’s ministrations. Kakashi himself isn’t unaffected: a hand palming roughly at his own erection as he swallows around Iruka’s cock. Tenzou would offer a hand, but he’s as equally distracted by the brushes of Iruka’s chakra against his own, erratic and desperate, clawing for control ultimately denied - more erotic than he initially would have imagined.

Kakashi really does have the best ideas.

Kakashi pulls away, his mouth red and spit-shiny, and turns to grin shamelessly at Tenzou. There’s an answering whine from Iruka, a jerk of the hips that has Tenzou immediately looping vines to tie them down, to prevent Iruka from even the relief of grinding up into the air.

“Get back here,” Iruka demands. Sharper than a beg, sweeter than a snarl.

Kakashi acquiesces, delighting in smoothing a hand over Iruka’s cock and watching Iruka arch into his palm. “What’s next, Tenzou-sensei,” he asks playfully. “He hasn’t passed his test, has he?”

“No,” Tenzou affirms gravely. The vines have barely budged an inch.

“What a shame,” Kakashi shakes his head, faux disappointed. He slides off the bed, sighing his disappointment theatrically for all to hear. “We can’t reward you at this rate, Iruka.”

To Tenzou’s surprise, Iruka quickly asks, “can’t I take a make up test, then?”

"Oh?”

Iruka nods up at Kakashi, looking almost eager. “I could make it up to you,” he says - and he’d be convincing if not for his face flushed red and his body squirming against his restraints. “To both of you,” he corrects himself, and slides a heated gaze over to Tenzou. “All good teachers have a make up test in their arsenal after all.”

“Do they,” Kakashi says, silky smooth, but he glances at Tenzou. _Your call_.

“Fine,” Tenzou allows, and cuts Iruka off before he can revel in his success. “You’ll still have to work on your seals though.”

“Of course, sensei,” Iruka says, his voice dropping low on that very last word. Tenzou’s only a man - he shivers.

“How kind of you, sensei,” Kakashi says brightly. “So what’s the test going to be?”

Tenzou has ideas, and both of them seem more than happy to give him the reins. Kakashi’s tongue is wicked at the best of times, and watching him eat Iruka out would be exquisite when Iruka’s so wonderfully responsive, and deliciously indignant when held down. Even so, Kakashi does deserve a break and maybe a reward of his own for being such an excellent teaching assistant. Perhaps Iruka could put his mouth to good use and suck Kakashi off for all the trouble Kakashi’s gone through. Perhaps Tenzou could shape a branch, bulbous and smooth and sap-slick, and it’ll certainly be a distraction when it presses down over and over on Iruka’s prostate.

Perhaps, perhaps - but before Tenzou could decide, the shatter of glass rings throughout the flat. Loud. Deafening.

An intruder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lessons on botany incoming in... the chapter after the next? hahahaha


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, I blame drelfina. You'll see why.

In the books that Kakashi likes to read, in the soap operas that Tenzou likes to watch, there are always scenes cautioning against sexual intimacy lest the enemy takes the chance for an opportunistic ambush.

In ANBU, the mental shift in gears from blowing your fellow teammate off to relieve the sexual tension and boredom to full alertness is ingrained in every operative, to the point that it's a reflex more than a conscious decision.

Tenzou stands up and flicks his hand wide. The vines wrapped around Iruka immediately lash out and away from his body. Kakashi steps up next to Tenzou within the arc his movement, his stance battle-ready and the Sharingan spinning in his socket; Iruka scrambles upwards and into place behind them. If the noise is a diversion, then he’ll cover their backs from any attackers looking to come in through the window.

Tenzou has never fought with Iruka at his side, but it’s a sound decision. He’ll appreciate it later when they’re safe.

A breath, or two. Kakashi’s hands fly through the seals for a shadow clone, with the telltale puff of existence on the other side of the door sounding only seconds later. The clone opens the door, reporting a  crisp, “clear,” before disappearing with a quick and efficient stab.

They edge out into Iruka’s living room, separated from the kitchen by a single counter. It’s immediately evident what caused the crash with the glass shards spread sharp and sparkling across a veritable sea of dried konbu strewn across the kitchen floor. They don’t let their guard down - not until Kakashi’s four other shadow clones drop back into the apartment and report another terse ‘clear’ before taking their leave of existence.

A jar slipping out of place. Most would laugh at their reaction, but Kakashi is in the bingo book and Tenzou might have his own entry some day. It’s never foolish for a shinobi to be paranoid. 

“Strange,” Iruka says into the tense silence. “I… I must have put the jar too close to the edge.”

The dubious tinge in his tone makes Tenzou doubt the veracity of his statement. Tenzou crouches down, to salvage what konbu they can - but instead of being dry and covered in a fine dusting of powder, the konbu is soft, damp and springy to the touch.

“Were you planning to dry them?” He picks out a piece twice the length of his arm. He’s never seen konbu this long - the konbu sold in the market often are often only a palm’s width, sealed in an airtight packet. He’s never seen konbu fresh, for that matter. 

“No,” Iruka says, clearly confused. He kneels down next to Tenzou and draws another piece of konbu from the floor, as long as Tenzou's own. “I bought them packaged from the market."

“That’s an awful lot of konbu,” Kakashi observes from behind them. “Was there a sale?”

“Even if there’s a sale I wouldn’t buy this much,” Iruka protests. “How am I even going to eat all of this?”

“Naruto,” is the immediate answer. Iruka doesn’t reply because, right, that’s fair.

Tenzou is struck by the thought that if anyone walked into them, right now, all they would see is three naked men gathered around a pile of konbu. He entertains the terrible memory of Sai drawing something blatantly vulgar onto his canvas, asking Sakura to ‘caption this’.

“So someone broke into your house and… left you more konbu.” He frowns. It sounds preposterous. It is preposterous. “Like some sort of reverse thief.”

Iruka scoffs, the sentiment speaking for all three of them.

“Maybe the konbu is poisoned?” Kakashi suggests. 

“I really hope not,” Iruka says, inordinately distressed. “This is the good brand.”

Tenzou picks up another strip by its end. Strange - the texture is dry and firm under his fingertips. When he lets go, a thin dusting of white powder clings to his skin.

A few inches down, soft and springy.

Rehydrated, Tenzou suddenly realizes.

(Chakra building and scattering away from the vines. My chakra affinity is water.)

“Iruka,” Tenzou breathes. “Your Mokuton.”

* * *

No two person’s chakra are the same. 

It sounds romantic, a sense of individuality in a world of multitudes. It’s not meant to be. A simple observation of fact, made after fighting shinobi after shinobi and understanding that even if the shinobi has mastered all seven releases (or more if they have their unique bloodline limit), it is natural to default to the element the shinobi is strongest in. 

Both are valid strategies: Kakashi could either play the elemental version of _jan-ken-pon_  with sufficient information on his opponent, or he could pull out his strongest base attack and char them to death with his _chidori_. 

Even with multiple elemental releases, a fair guess could be made to their strongest element. A shinobi attempting to learn a new release often starts with the element that boosts their own base element, for purposes both tactical and efficient. The flow of wind is conducive to the flare of fire, and the push of chakra similar in its path, and so on. It took a master shinobi on the level of the Kages to learn each element independently - but even then the Shodaime was known for his Mokuton, and the Nidaime for his water dragons.

So maybe it isn’t a surprise when Iruka’s chakra affinity is water, his Mokuton would apply to a very specific subset of plants - like seaweed.

Nonplussed, Iruka follows Tenzou’s instruction to attempt using his mokuton on the konbu. With previous attempts resulting in failure, Kakashi should have anticipated that Iruka would overcompensate his lack of skill with a burst of chakra.

The strip of konbu in Iruka’s hand expands, shooting upwards with the force of exponential growth, past their crouched forms.

It slaps Kakashi plain across the face.

The impact doesn't even hurt: a blur of dark green before wet, rubbery and slimy. In his own defense, Kakashi was doing the equivalent of staring down the barrel of an opium pipe. 

_I should have worn my mask_ , is Kakashi’s first thought. 

(His second thought is his own opinion on food play and the merits of using konbu as a substitute for ropes. Kakashi is nothing but resourceful.)

“Sorry,” Iruka exclaims as Kakashi peels konbu away from his face.

“Too much chakra,” Tenzou muses aloud, but he’s practically vibrating with excitement now that there’s proof that his own teaching methods are not at fault. “Iruka, here, try again - less chakra, you’re not Naruto.”

That surprises a laugh out of Iruka. Kakashi drops his initial plan of wheedling Iruka into, ah, kissing the pain better - he's a shinobi first and interested in how far this variant of the Mokuton can go. Besides, Tenzou seems more than enthusiastic to hand Iruka another strip of konbu and watch it grow twice its size. Kakashi would hate to interrupt him.

“Try growing it into a sheet,” Tenzou tells Iruka, his words tripping over themselves. “Vertical growth is natural, basic - but sometimes you need to force them past their nature.” 

Iruka obliges, and their faces light up in delight as Iruka manipulates a strip of konbu into a sheet the size of a mission report. 

“Make it thicker,” Tenzou tugs excitedly on the crook of Iruka’s elbow. “Here, a new one - or just use the same one - “

The sheet thickens by several inches. Iruka holds it up, chest puffed up and undeniably proud.

“Water affinity,” Tenzou shakes his head, smiling ruefully. “Your water affinity - we should have known.”

“You only had a scroll,” Kakashi points out. Tenzou is really being too hard on himself for not knowing all there is to know about a rare bloodline limit.

“Still,” Tenzou starts, only to have Iruka brush a hand gently over his own. 

“You figured it out,” Iruka tells him, smiling soft and fond. At that gentle quirk of the lips, something tugs gently in the corner of Kakashi’s heart; he tucks it away in the corner of his mind. Tenzou flushes, but he’s still grinning widely back at Iruka - so Kakashi takes the opportunity to do his duty as a senpai and make Tenzou’s life harder.

“Why don’t you use your Mokuton,” Kakashi suggests. Iruka turns to look at him in confusion - right, two Mokutons now. Kakashi tilts his head towards Tenzou. “Tenzou, why don’t you try?”

“I suppose,” Tenzou hesitates. He brings his hands up for the same seals he taught Iruka, touching a strip of konbu. 

It does some sort of floppy, wriggly sort of motion but otherwise doesn’t get any larger. 

"Strange," Kakashi muses. Tenzou is proficient in water release - there's no reason he wouldn't be able to emulate Iruka as a master of the Mokuton. Then again, his Mokuton is admittedly incomplete - or in light of the various anecdotes of a Sharingan's capabilities from the Warring Clans era, all of them wildly conflicting, there's no reason for a bloodline limit to develop exactly the same way in two different people.

Either that, or the Uchihas were paranoid enough to spread misinformation about their own _doujutsu._ All the better to confuse their opponents with. 

Iruka leans in close, the tilt of his head absolutely asking for trouble. "I think keeping a clear picture in your mind helps,” he teases. 

"You're not off the hook just because you can grow konbu, sensei," Kakashi interjects lightly. There’s manipulating the element, and then there’s actually using it. An attack with its value resting solely on its surprise is worthless against a shinobi always on their guard, even if they’re not looking out for sudden seaweed slaps. 

They’ll probably have to adjust the jutsus for use with konbu, though - konbu doesn’t actually grow like trees. Or at least they don’t look like they grow like trees. Like grass? Genius he might be, but Konoha’s academy curriculum does not include the study of botany outside of _this plant might kill you so feed it to your enemies_. 

How would you even attack with konbu? The slap to Kakashi’s face barely even stung. Even for defense, at its thickest the rubbery material is easily pierced by a kunai with enough driving force. Outside of a surprise attack, there’s little reason to use konbu for attacking when earth release would do just fine.

He’s about to ask Tenzou on how they could possibly adapt the Mokuton techniques for seaweed when Iruka suddenly shoots to his feet, jumps over the mound of konbu and lands in front of his fridge.

“Grow konbu,” Iruka shouts with the mad fervency of Gai in the heat of a challenge. 

While Kakashi is used to Gai’s brand of enthusiasm, it is disconcerting when it comes from someone else, especially from someone as reserved as Iruka. (He withholds his comments on Iruka’s reservations in bed.) Iruka all but wrenches the door open and pulls out a paper box with the logo of a nearby restaurant, filled with strips of seaweed peppered with sesame seeds.

“ _Wakame_ ,” Tenzou breathes, as if Iruka discovered a new jutsu. 

In a span of two seconds, Iruka manages to cause the _wakame_ to overflow from its meagre container to join the _konbu_ on the floor. This is not surprising. It’s when he snags a pair of chopsticks from the nearby sink and eats the seaweed straight from the box that gives them pause.

“Iruka.” Tenzou’s voice is strangled. “Are you - “

“It’s good,” Iruka mumbles through a mouthful of seaweed. 

“- eating that,” Tenzou finishes, his face hilariously frozen in a rictus of incomprehension. 

Konbu and _wakame_. Safe to say, Iruka can control seaweed with his Mokuton. It doesn't explain why Iruka is currently chewing on his seaweed salad and sending Tenzou into a conniption. The thought of eating any produce from the Mokuton has occurred to exactly neither of them.

Iruka swallows and waves a pair of chopsticks at them. 

"I can grow seaweed," he declares. 

"You can eat it too, apparently," Kakashi says faintly. Did they push him too far? Did his chakra levels lower so much that his body decided it needed food? Did he manipulate so much seaweed he developed a craving for it?

Iruka jabs the chopstick towards his direction. "Exactly," he says, inexplicably triumphant. "Do you know what this means? I don't have to buy seaweed ever again!"

He shakes the container vigorously, the _wakame_ slopping over the edges and onto the pile below.

“I can make _dashi_  now.” His capability to make soup stock found in practically every household throughout the Land of Fire should not afford him this much manic glee. “Free _dashi_."

For the first time, Kakashi wonders if teachers at the academy are being paid enough. He thought Iruka a workaholic with his extra shifts at the mission desk, a stringent budgeter of his own funds. He might have been wrong. This is the expected reaction of someone who discovered they have a bloodline limit, but Iruka is having it a month late and over _seaweed_.

“If I dry it,” Iruka is saying, “then I could even package and sell some on the side.”

The brief and bewildering image of Iruka laying out sheets of _nori_ on the rooftop and using his fire release to blow a stream of fire over them comes to Kakashi’s mind.

“I probably can market it as organically grown and produced,” Iruka continues, full of entrepreneurial spirit. “Chakra is organic, isn’t it?”

“Yes?” Tenzou answers, still desperately trying to process the thought of using the Mokuton for sustenance.

“Chakra-grown seaweed,” Iruka says, his tone wondrous. "I can charge it for a premium.”

Iruka goes on to outline his new side occupation of seaweed producer to a stunned Tenzou. This is the new age of shinobi, Kakashi reflects morosely: protecting your village and nation while using your jutsus for commercial benefit. The only saving grace is that Iruka would lose the Mokuton before he even thinks about resigning from teaching. 

Seaweed release. Kakashi can’t even process it as a Mokuton, not after Iruka ate his own chakra-grown seaweed. Kakashi loathes to call any skill useless, but he's hard-pressed to come up with its use in any strategy.

It doesn't matter, especially when Iruka is honestly happier with teaching at the Academy. Had he gained actual proficiency with the Mokuton, Kakashi has little doubt that Iruka would have been pressed into applying for tokujou, or sent out on covert missions. The Mokuton is too rare an ability to languish away in a classroom - what remaining records there is of the first Great Shinobi War detailed Senju Hashirama’s irrepressible abilities, and to this day the Mokuton is viewed with reverence and fear.

They are all shinobi. If need be, Iruka would take up his kunai and slit throats in defense of Konoha and her children. But Kakashi thinks of Iruka’s face as he’s surrounded by his students, sometimes exasperated, sometimes proud, but almost always fond - and maybe it’s a blessing to keep it that way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU WOULDN'T DOWNLOAD A KONBU
> 
> (Iruka totally would)
> 
> _Konbu_ , _wakame_ and _nori_ are variants of seaweed used in Japanese dishes. (Dried) konbu is mostly used to make _dashi_ , which is a Japanese soup stock full of that good _umami_ flavour. (*insert _Ajinomoto_ commercial jingle*). Wakame is the seaweed you usually find in your miso soup, or the shredded seaweed salads restaurants like to offer as an appetiser. Nori is seaweed shredded and dried into a sheet and used to wrap the sushi and temaki rolls.
> 
> Soup stock is like, a godsend of flavour in any kitchen, so you can _bet_ that Iruka would be growing the shit out of that konbu. What do you mean it isn't a legitimate use of chakra and ninjutsu??? Anything is fair in love and business.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for Iruka's (my) absolutely terrible sense of humour, which Kakashi does not appreciate.

The revelation of his Mokuton being capable of growing seaweed only serves as encouragement for reaching the limits of his abilities. In light of his entrepreneurial opportunities, Iruka takes the initiative to invest in konbu - specifically the one he’s seen sitting on the shelves of Kakashi’s kitchen. After a moment’s consideration, he also tosses a packet of wakame into his basket.

The old woman manning the store raises her brow when she sees the contents of Iruka's basket. Both are brands he would have never considered buying with his meager salary. 

“They finally give you teachers a raise?" She winks at him. 

"You could say that, Ayase-san," he answers. He's been buying from her store ever since he finally received his own apartment in the chuunin barracks. It doesn't hurt either that Ayase remembers him as a chubby-cheeked child clinging to his father’s knees, enough to occasionally throw in some freebies - as she’s doing now, slipping him a small jar of miso. 

“Nothing like a bowl of miso soup,” she declares as she waves him off. Iruka feels the slightest bit of guilt that he'll never be buying konbu from her again - but he’ll have more money to buy other condiments and seasonings from her. It’ll balance out, really.

In the interests of providing his chakra-grown konbu with the best care (in the name of higher profits, naturally), Iruka takes to researching about seaweed. Surprisingly, seaweed is a form of algae - and algae actually aren’t plants. 

He mentions this to Tenzou as they’re huddled on the couch watching a rerun of 'Ah My Goddess'.

“I did not know that,” Tenzou admits slowly. He goes quiet for a minute, before asking, “does this make it algae release or seaweed release?”

“Is that what Kakashi is calling it?”

Tenzou suddenly looks very shifty. Iruka waits, adopting a stern expression.

“Yes…?” He ventures.

“It is accurate," Iruka finally allows, grinning impishly. Tenzou pouts at him, only the slightest bit miffed. 

“You’ll call it by any name as long as it gives you free _dashi_ ,” Tenzou grumbles good-naturedly before the music signaling the end of the break comes on and they return their attention back to the show.

He doesn’t mind really, whatever name Kakashi decides to put to his Mokuton. Even for the most open-minded of shinobi, there is a marked preference for jutsus of offensive capabilities. Utility jutsus are useful in their own right, but for shinobi specializing in infiltration and assassination, a jutsu capable of manipulating seaweed (or algae) is rather low on the list of priority.

Naming conventions aside, Iruka wonders if his Mokuton could be used on aquatic plants. There’s the watercress he bought just the other day - excellent with a bit of soy sauce splashed across - in his fridge…

A burst of chakra, and he has twice the watercress he previously had. 

It takes a trip to the flea market for him to buy a pot for his new plant (another cost saved, his checkbook is crying in relief and so is Iruka) and a venture outside of Konoha’s walls to the first secluded pond he finds, to see what he else can do with the native flora. 

He spends the afternoon knee-deep in the pond, fish darting past his legs as he wades around and catalogues the various plants surrounding him. There are many, now that he’s truly looking - the soft rushes fringing the banks of the pond, the eelgrass brushing past his ankles, the curly leaves of the pondweed bumping into his shins. In a corner of the pond, a cluster of water caltrops drift - a quick inquisitive grope beneath the rosettes of floating leaves reveal hard and spiky buds of growing fruit.

It is entirely magical, he discovers, to run across the surface of the pond and see the lily pads grow gargantuan under his feet, large enough to support a grown adult's weight. The flowers bud in one breath and bloom in another, white and pink and yellow and all of them lovely, their scent floating sweet on the wind.

(Maybe he could plan a class expedition to the pond. The magic of walking on water before they can harness their chakra to do so will be enthralling to any child, and he can intersperse the trip with lessons on surviving in the wild.) 

He's tempted to bring back a clump of water caltrops, or a water lily for its edible roots - but Iruka thinks that between the various species of seaweed and the watercress he’s already growing, that’s more than enough plants. Maybe he could leave them for future foraging. After all, the pond is only a short trip out of Konoha, and there’s only so much space for pots in his kitchen.

Iruka eyes the small cluster thoughtfully. Maybe he could also sell water caltrops? Harder to package, sure, but still viable...

Just a little bit of encouragement, he decides, pushing his chakra into the plant. Rosettes of leaves unfurl and detach from the original cluster, and by the end of it all the water caltrops take up a considerable (and profitable) corner of the pond.

He leaves that evening with a bag of freshly harvested water caltrops. Roasted, they'll taste as good as water chestnuts. He’ll offer some as samples to potential suppliers, maybe even persuade some nearby restaurants to offer complimentary side dishes with them. Those who already have their own long-term suppliers would be unlikely to leave their contracts - he’d talk to them when the caltrops are off-season and in higher demand.

It’s with this sack he runs into Kakashi at the gates of the village. 

“Ah, Iruka-sensei,” Kakashi greets him, falling into step next to Iruka. “You seem to be in a good mood.” His eye flicks towards the sack, its cloth darkened by the water clinging to the fruits. “Is that… seaweed.”

There have been moments where Iruka teased Kakashi about his age, on account of his shock of silver hair. Surprisingly, Kakashi’s views on certain matters remain quite old-fashioned - reflective of the older age group he grew up with. His personal losses aside, war has been burnt into his very bones, and ANBU has done him no favors. It’s likely why he regards Iruka’s entrepreneurial use of his own jutsu with a disapproving eye, even if he doesn’t say so out loud - but Kakashi isn’t the only one within the village who can see underneath the underneath.

“Water caltrops,” Iruka informs him cheerfully. “The Mokuton works on them too.”

Kakashi’s expression is torn between interest and looking like he got slapped by konbu (again).

“I guess you can’t call it seaweed release anymore,” Iruka says slyly. 

Kakashi at least has the grace to not look embarrassed by Iruka’s gentle accusation, taking it in his stride. “Maa, sensei,” he says. “There’s a reason why we call lightning chakra lightning and not electricity. No harm in inaccuracy if we want to make ourselves sound cool.”

“And I suppose seaweed release is cool in your books,” Iruka rejoins without any real bite.

“On the contrary,” an arm snakes around his waist as Kakashi leans in close. The squeeze to the curve of his hip lets Iruka know that Kakashi isn’t only talking about his seaweed release. “I find it very hot.”  

“Is that so,” Iruka says, trying for nonchalant and landing on breathless.

“It is,” Kakashi agrees. His voice drops a register, scraping a shivering path up Iruka’s spine. “Especially when I think about how… soft it would be against my wrists.”

And Iruka knows what Kakashi is insinuating, with his mouth close to Iruka’s ear and the trajectory of their shared path shifting unerringly towards Iruka’s apartment. He would be down with it, except - 

“You could just eat the bindings,” Iruka points out. He then muffles an involuntary snort behind one hastily raised hand.

The breath Kakashi sighs out can only be described as _wounded_. 

“Iruka,” he mourns. “That is the least sexy image you’ve ever put into my head."

“They’ll be like edible restraints.” Iruka tries to tell him. “Like edible underwear,” surely there are some mentioned in Icha Icha, “but restraints. Edible restraints.” 

Kakashi looks unconvinced. “I don’t suppose you’ll make that into a seaweed product line,” he says, unenthusiastic. 

“Well, now that you mention it…” Iruka pretends to consider.

“Please don’t,” Kakashi says, looking as pitiful as he could - but there’s a faint smile on his lips as if he's fairly assured that Iruka is joking. 

Iruka refrains from disabusing him of the notion. Instead, he tilts his head in a way that forces him to look at Kakashi through his lashes. It's a trick from Anko that got her laid plenty of times, and Iruka himself finds it incredibly effective in getting both Kakashi and Tenzou riled up. 

“But if I do,” he says. "Then I’d need someone to help me test it out. In the interest of maintaining product quality, of course.”

Kakashi peers at him - _success_ \- and Iruka swears that he’s pouting. “Several times?”

“Several times,” Iruka confirms.

“I suppose I could be convinced to help,” he allows. “In the name of maintaining your product’s quality.”

“My business thanks you for your contribution,” Iruka says, all mischief as he pulls Kakashi into his apartment, and onto his bed. The water caltrops are left in a corner of his room - the pursuit of profit could wait another day.

* * *

"It's not sustainable," Tenzou declares one day. 

They're sitting around Iruka's table, him and Tenzou and Kakashi, boxes of Earth cuisine stacked high before them alongside a bottle of _baijiu_ , half empty. Today's dinner is at the courtesy of Tenzou, even if that courtesy came out reluctantly at Kakashi's wheedling - but Iruka isn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Still, Tenzou's declaration is such a non-sequitur that Iruka pauses, his chopsticks raised halfway towards his mouth. 

"Eating your own Mokuton produce," Tenzou clarifies, his face flushed red from alcohol. "You're eating chakra."

Kakashi puts down his chopsticks.

"What's wrong with eating chakra," Iruka says after he swallows down a shrimp dumpling. "Everything has chakra in them."

"Not artificial chakra," Kakashi points out, before backtracking. "No, artificial isn't the term for it. Unnatural?"

"Chakra not coming from the organism," Tenzou supplies. 

"That's too much of a mouthful," Kakashi dismisses. "Let's stick with artificial chakra."

"It's not artificial if it's converted into the plant's own chakra," Iruka says, very reasonably. "My chakra just helps it grow along its natural path. Like fertilizer."

"You can't really call that amount of growth _natural_ ," Kakashi says, waving a hand towards the pot of watercress on the windowsill, looking less like an individual plant and more a bush. 

Iruka diplomatically grabs a _charsiu_ bun and takes a bite out of it. 

"That's what they said about fertilizers before it became normal to use them," he finally says. 

Kakashi furrows his brows. 

Before he can say anything else, Tenzou cuts in. "The point is," he stresses. "It's not sustainable. It's... it's eating your own energy, but you're ex- expense- using more energy to create your food than to consume it."

Kakashi catches on. "So basically you're wasting energy on creating food you're consuming."

"Yes," Tenzou says. "Exactly. Senpai gets it."

Tenzou's drunken rambling isn't the only thing Kakashi is getting tonight, Iruka thinks as he observes Kakashi's hand slip further up Tenzou's leg. 

"What if I trade it out for more nutritious food then," Iruka posits, calmly plucking a fried spring roll from the tray. "What if I trade the seaweed I make for a bowl of _katsudon_?"

Tenzou frowns. "Is seaweed worth a bowl of _katsudon_?" He asks doubtfully. 

"Some are." Iruka doesn't specify which, but the point is he can make enough seaweed worth a bowl of _katsudon_ \- or any other dish he fancies. "And if I eat my produce with rice, something I didn't make..."

"But..."

"What if I leave it to grow," Iruka presses. "And I eat whatever grows after that."

Tenzou looks increasingly uncertain. Iruka opts to consider it a point well countered and pops the spring roll into his mouth. 

"You put a lot of thought into this, sensei," Kakashi says grudgingly. 

"I have to," Iruka admits. "I'll probably have to answer these questions once I submit my products to the Konoha Food Advisory Board."

From the look on Kakashi and Tenzou's faces, it's a fair guess that neither of them knew about the board's existence before today. 

He leans over to pat them on their knees. "It's okay," he says, just the slightest bit patronizing. "I only found out last month, too."

Kakashi steals the rest of the shrimp dumplings in blatant retaliation. The rest of the night devolves into asking Iruka for the honorable Board's opinion, a situation Iruka gleefully takes advantage of. 

* * *

Their conversation does remind Iruka that he has a corner of water caltrops waiting to be harvested outside of Konoha. If they are any good as Izumo and Kotetsu claim them to be, then Iruka might actually submit the applications waiting on a stack on the corner of his table. He decides to swing by the pond the very next day, after slipping a couple of painkillers for the two lumps of jounins in his bed, each. They seem like they need it.

So it comes as a surprise to him when he ventures down the same path to the very same pond, only to discover the entire pond’s surface _covered_ by green leaves.

Several observations assault him simultaneously: the cloying stench of rot arising from the waters. The petals of the water lilies strewn across leaves, their pale pink petals shriveled and dull. The fish, once lively, gasping at the gaps between its surface. 

Some are belly-up, unmoving. Dead.

Iruka recognizes two things: the leaves of the water caltrops strewn across the entire pond, and that, somewhere, somehow, he fucked up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just my personal reflection, but man... this sure feels like a filler episode.
> 
> Earth cuisine: Konoha's version of Chinese cuisine, complete with baijiu (Chinese white spirits). Iruka is eating har gow (shrimp dumpling), charsiu bao (barbeque pork bun), and fried spring rolls (less Chinese than Vietnamese, but I've eaten enough of them in dim sum parlors that they're part of the set now). 
> 
> Katsudon: Japanese dish of breaded pork cutlet with rice. Classic and tasty.
> 
> An academic discussion on whether you would eat chakra-grown seaweed and why is now open, please cite all of your sources in AMA format. 
> 
> Bonus points awarded if you can guess what happened to the pond. drel you're disqualified from this - you have an unfair advantage.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations to everyone who guessed a variation of algal blooms, eutrophication, and invasive species! The full explanation is as follows:
> 
> Iruka's chakra acted like a fertiliser for the water caltrops, and they took over the pond in a manner similar to invasive species. They blocked out the sun, and caused quite a number of underwater plants to die - and the mass decomposition also uses up a fair bit of oxygen, causing more plants and fish to die. And thus the pond stinks of death.
> 
> Assuming that the world has yet to come up with Oxygen no jutsu, I doubt the science in Naruto is that advanced...
> 
> Warnings for a lack of Tenzou and Kakashi this chapter, the author's terrible sense of humor, and mood whiplash.

A childhood of running headfirst into trouble has taught Iruka to jump into action.

His first instinct is to scoop the caltrops out of the pond, clump by flourishing clump. After several handfuls of soggy leaves and a pair of sleeves soaked through, Iruka is reminded that firstly, he is wearing a uniform and that secondly, he is a shinobi.

A shinobi whose main elemental release is _water_.

A quick jutsu funnels most of the water caltrops out of the pond and onto a nearby patch of dry grass. The unfortunate collateral of the jutsu is the fish, desperately flopping among the spikes of the caltrops; Iruka contritely throws them back into the water. They swim sluggishly into the murk of the pond - a pond was once clear enough to see down into its depths.

He frowns, taking a closer look. The surface, now bereft of leaves, has mosquito larvae wriggling just beneath it, their pale bodies translucent in the afternoon sun.

In the depths, something dark drifts.

There is nothing else to do but to grab at it - and so Iruka does, shuddering at the stringy and slimy softness sliding through his fingers. It draws out a brown and mushy mess of what used to be a plant. The stench rises from the corpses of fish entwined within: dead. Rotting.

The ninja academy’s curriculum may not teach much about plants, but it’s common knowledge that plants usually need sunlight to grow. With the water caltrops flourishing above, it isn’t a far reach to assume that they blocked the sunlight for the plants below, starving them of nourishment. Eventually, the plants died, rotting as they fell to the bottom of the pond - and if any fish depended on them for sustenance, they eventually starved and died too.

One or two dead plants are probably normal. An environment surrounded by death and rot, however, is less than healthy for humans, and much less for fish.

He can’t very well funnel the water out of the entire pond. The only thing left to do is to grab at every dark tendril he sees. They’re all disgusting and slimy, falling apart at a moment’s notice, and he tosses them into a separate pile from the caltrops. The dead fish, either trapped within the plants or floating up to the surface as he removes the decaying debris at the bottom of the pond - those too go into the pile.

A sizable mound builds, a monument to his guilt - because it’s his fault, isn’t it? Iruka can’t quite see chakra the way Kakashi can, but he can hear it when he concentrates. Unless Tenzou has been around practicing his Mokuton on aquatic plants, then Iruka is the only reason for the hum of chakra resonating from the water caltrops.

At least the fish look slightly better, swimming with just a bit more energy than when he found them earlier that afternoon. Or that might just be Iruka’s wishful thinking.

He sets the mound of rotting plants on fire with a _katon_ , the smoke rising into the night sky. As it burns, he plucks the fruits off the water caltrops and tosses the rest, leaves and roots and all, into the flames. If he puts them back into the pond, would they grow to cover the pond again? He can’t risk it, as tainted with his chakra as they are.

The fruits gleam dark and shiny, reflecting the embers nearby. They look larger than the ones he harvested back then - perhaps his chakra acted as a fertilizer.

He’ll have to give them away, Iruka decides. Selling them feels wrong, now.

(He won't be able to look at water caltrops the same way for a long time.)

* * *

The truth of the matter is, Iruka acted on ignorance.

Maybe it’s guilt, maybe it’s repentance, but Iruka knows the value of nature and his surroundings. For all the times he brought his class out to appreciate nature and how to survive in it, and the times reprimanding his students who decided to dispose of the rest of their _bentos_ by the tree instead of wrapping it back up to dispose of at their homes, it is nothing less than shameful that he’s the one who caused the pond to... rot so terribly.

He doesn’t even have the word for what he did, and he doesn’t know if he has fully fixed it. If anything can explain what happened, chances are he’ll find it in the library.

The library was first built as an archive room, near the administrative area of the Hokage Tower, to keep old scrolls and records. After Nidaime’s thirst for knowledge and his enthusiasm for the propagation thereof, the archives later expanded into a library full and proper, with scrolls on multitudes of topics ranging from pedagogy to fuinjutsu theory. It is in one of these scrolls, pertaining to the ecology of Konoha, that Iruka finds the term ‘eutrophication’, the description of which adheres to his exact situation: the overabundance of growth on the surface, the decay beneath, all because of an imbalance introduced into the ecosystem.

He’s also incredibly bemused to find that the academic experts on the fauna and flora of Konoha politely _loathes_  Senju Hashirama on account of creating the Forest of Death.

 _Before the Shodaime of Konoha manipulated the local ecology to suit Konoha's defensive needs_ , a paragraph accuses,  _an endeavor ultimately unnecessary considering that as a village we are hidden in the trees, the flora found to be native to Konoha boasted a wide variety_.

 _The earliest records of the giant centipede date back to the founding of Konoha_ , another scroll declares. _It is unconfirmed what led to its emergence, but most experts would wager the abilities and unfortunately careless use of said abilities of Senju Hashirama creating the megaflora now found in the forest today is likely to have contributed to the flourishing of the giant centipede, both in size and in population, and the truncated food webs now observed._

 _Despite its namesake of being hidden in the leaves_ , an excerpt says, incredibly snide in a way Iruka never realized an academic essay could be,  _the very founder of Konoha has little respect for the very environment we live in._

Like ponds, forests too have a delicate balance in their ecology. In the absence of records by the Shodaime himself, notorious for leaving all his paperwork to his brother during his reign, Iruka wagers that the trees had been imbued with chakra in some method or another, resulting in the incredible heights it reaches today.

With the trees towering high and the foliage blocking out most of the sunlight, little could survive on the forest floor. The climb to reach the fruits and the leaves is far too exhausting for the shinobi not using the body-flicker technique, let alone animals unable to channel their chakra - and the velocity of the fall of an overripe fruit ensured either a concussion upon hit to an unfortunate head, or the splatter of its content across the floor, quicker to rot with the exposure to the elements. The animals on the ground either had to adapt or die.

Many died. Out of luck or hardiness, some survived - namely the giant centipedes and snakes that roam the forest today, their viciousness warranted by the intense competition lurking below.

 _It would be mistaken to believe that the Forest of Death is named so for the fate that befalls those who enter it._ Another scroll, another criticism. _The deaths of the native flora once found below, the deaths of the fauna that once called the forest their habitat and home - it is for them that the Forest of Death should be named._

Zealous fans all around for Senju Hashirama in the academic world, Iruka thinks wryly as he rolls the scroll back into its container. He has the sneaking suspicion that the scrolls were published during the Sandaime’s regime - he couldn’t imagine anyone confronting the Shodaime about the Mokuton, and the Nidaime probably would not have stood for insults against his brother’s name.

Apart from scathing comments on the Shodaime, Iruka is relieved to find that the pond would naturally reverse the process of eutrophication, even if it took years or decades. At the very least, the author of the scroll is fairly sure that the balance would be restored. Iruka would help it along, except that he’s learned his lesson about _helping_. The only thing he should do is wait and see.

(And scoop out more dead plant matter, if need be - even if he doesn’t want to touch a rotting plant ever again.)

At least it's only a pond, he tries to console himself. Just imagine if he tried growing the water caltrops in the lake or the river. He’d have inconvenienced so many people. Aside from the abundance of fish, the lake is practically one of Konoha’s major sources of water. If the lake went through eutrophication and stank that terribly, no one in their right mind would drink from it. People would have to use the river instead -

People would have to use another water source -

A water source -

The revelation is quiet. A tree falling in a forest with no one around to hear it.

Iruka slowly puts the scrolls back down onto the table, and silently settles back into his chair. Every breath he drags in through his mouth is chilled, and every breath out leaves him cold and colder. He feels light-headed, breathless - suddenly and uncomfortably aware of the full extent of the havoc his Mokuton can wreak.

Without water, a human can survive for at most seven days. This is a fact known even to civilians. Using chakra, a shinobi might be able to extend their survivability - but eventually, inevitably, they would succumb to dehydration. The throat when parched craves endlessly for water; it is instinct to wet the tongue with any liquid you can find.

(Even if the water is filled with rot and decay. Even if you don’t die from thirst, but from fever, vomiting, diarrhea - from water-borne diseases wringing your body dry of the water it desperately needs.

Even then.)

Human settlements are often located near a river, a lake, an oasis - an easily accessible source of water, large enough to support its inhabitants. Past the need for sustenance, water is an intrinsic part of human lives and culture for washing and cooking, and a source of food in itself with its fish and plants. Clean, clear, and safe - a water source is what a village needs to survive, and to flourish.

Cover that water source up with water caltrops, or maybe even algae. Iruka’s seen the term ‘algal bloom’ in the scrolls, where through a shift in the nutrients within the water the algae multiply exponentially, ‘blooming’ across the surface of the body of water. Cover it up, and let the lifeforms beneath the surface struggle to survive and eventually die - and the water source is tainted, inaccessible, unusable. No one would drink from a lake filled with the stench of death unless desperation drives them to.

A death sentence, if the village or the camp has the one water source. Like Suna - with water being a precious commodity in a land where nothing but the sands stretch out all around it for miles and miles. If Iruka had access to their water and encouraged the algae to grow…

Negotiations would go far more quickly when holding out a siege is no longer an option.

Iruka has never been in a war. But before dedicating himself to teaching, he has been sent out on missions. Taking lives is not unfamiliar to him. The blood, wet and warm on his hand; the kunai, cold and heavy. The stuttering gasps of someone trying to breathe with a blade in their lung - these, too, are not new.

But the thought of an entire village, filled with the dead and dying as its inhabitants lay in their beds; men and women clutching at their stomachs, children curled in the arms of their family too weak to move. All of their suffering brought forth with a single touch of Iruka’s chakra.

But Iruka would. Iruka would do it for Konoha if he must.

Did the Yondaime feel like this when he single-handedly sent the thousand Iwa ninjas to their deaths days before the armistice between Konoha and Iwa? This frank appraisal of his own abilities, this grim determination to carry it through. Perhaps he doesn’t feel the fear that Konoha might have need of his abilities one day when he honed them so for its defense - but Iruka did not, and he has never expected his Mokuton to amount to more than Tenzou’s own.

Tenzou - if Iruka tells him and Kakashi about the additional weapon he now has in his holster - less kunai than poisoned senbon, silent and deadly, how would they react?

Everyone knows that if Tsunade-sama ever steps down, by choice or by circumstance, Hatake Kakashi will be immediately put forth as a Hokage candidate. And in the wake of Orochimaru’s machinations, in the rumors and whispers of a missing-nin organization, Kakashi one day would lead Konoha in its defense. Perhaps even a war.

So if Kakashi knows that Iruka could starve an enemy camp or stronghold of water, Iruka has little doubt that Kakashi would order him to do so. The calculus is simple: beyond the narrative of us or them, an ambush with little casualties is infinitely preferable to a bloody and full-frontal assault. Bravery is secondary to the preservation of lives - for some, that is where true honor lay.

And if Tenzou knows - and Iruka suspects, sometimes, that Tenzou sees him as soft, someone entirely unsuited for ANBU - Tenzou might keep it a secret for a while, to protect whatever image he’s built up of Iruka. But Tenzou fights for Konoha before all else, and eventually, he would tell Kakashi. If he tells either of them now, Iruka might as well put himself straight onto the track for _tokujou_. Konoha would not wait until war to use the Mokuton - it would attempt to prevent wars before they could even begin.

But Iruka wants to teach. Maybe he’s selfish, but he doesn’t want to poison an entire water supply when he could correct the grip of an unsteady hand. He doesn’t want to choke a lake to its death when he could see the realization dawn in a student's eyes when they finally grasp what he’s trying to teach them.

He fancies himself a strong person - but like how ivy grows down an immovable wall and the roots dig its way into the cracks, Iruka doesn’t think he can remain strong sending an entire village, perhaps more, to its death.

So he won’t tell them. He can't tell them, or anyone else - he can't let anyone realize the full potential of the Mokuton. No more packaging and selling konbu by the mass, not when someone might suspect. Iruka won’t pass up the opportunity to save costs, but he won’t put himself into the spotlight by making a profit off his Mokuton.

Let them view the frivolous use of his Mokuton with fond condescension - at least, for now.

If war comes - then, and only then, would he tell Kakashi and Tenzou. After that, let them direct him as they will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me before writing this fic: hahaha Iruka looks like Hashirama let's give him a Mokuton for shit and giggles  
> Me after writing this fic: hahaha bioterrorism time
> 
> It would totes be devastating tho. Just escort Iru to the lake/groundwater, let him loose, then escort him back. And for all that Konoha's ninjas try to portray themselves as people driven by honor, Konoha itself is far more bloodthirsty and territorial than it claims not to be. Even more devastating when people can't counter the chakra due to the rarity of the Mokuton.
> 
> Iruka might not ever be ANBU-level, but he sure as hell can be strategically important. Just in limited and unconventional ways. I imagine after several times of eutrophication other villages would begin to wise up and guard their water sources more fiercely than ever.
> 
> This fic should wrap up by the next chapter (with possible omakes in the future) so thanks for sticking with me so far!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And one last mood shift as this story ends.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with these three idiots all through out!

“…and we returned to Konoha immediately after,” Kakashi finishes.

Before him, Tsunade listens intently with the gravitas befitting of the fifth Hokage. Next to her, Shizune regards him impassively, mentally reviewing his report - if there are any clarifications required, Shizune is often the one to request them, and not frivolously so. Her petite stature often led to people disregarding her in the face of Tsunade’s presence, when they should have been wary of both.

“Anything else to report?” Tsunade asks.

“Nothing of importance,” Kakashi answers by rote.

“Hm.” Tsunade leans back into her chair, a clear indication of dismissal. “Good work, shinobi. Dismissed.”

Kakashi gives a sharp bow, turning to leave… but no. There is something he wants to know. He returns to his former stance, which Tsunade notices by his continued presence.

“What is it, brat.” The harshness of her words is softened only by their familiarity.

How to go about this? Kakashi considers his options. 

“What’s the likelihood someone outside a clan would develop their bloodline limit,” he finally asks.

She frowns, reaching over for her pipe. Kakashi waits silently, allowing her time to think.

“I doubt it’s impossible,” she says. Nothing is impossible, after all. “But… very unlikely. Never met someone born with a clan’s bloodline limit unless someone put it in them.”

The prime example being Kakashi, of course, but clearly they're not talking about that.

“And within the clan, variants could develop?” He presses.

“Of course,” Tsunade scoffs. “The Sharingan was a variant of the Byakugan. Its development went down a different path, or so they claimed.” She taps the ashes of her pipe out onto a nearby tray. “Why are you asking me? I’m a medic-nin, not an expert in clan lineage.”

“Just wondering if the Sharingan would ever develop in my other eye,” Kakashi deflects slyly. Tsunade looks at him, the slant of her mouth dry and unimpressed. Kakashi doesn’t hold it against her - it’s hard to find people who appreciate his humor. “You looked like you might know.”

“I don’t need to be an expert to know that it probably won’t.”

“See!” Kakashi beams at her, eye widened for maximum annoyance. “You were the perfect person to ask.”

Tsunade snorts. “Get out of my office, brat.”

Kakashi knows how to be annoying, but he knows Tsunade can punt him through the entire five floors of the Hokage Tower with only one finger.

He gets out.

* * *

“He’s working on perfecting the Rasengan,” Tenzou reports. “Right now he’s depending on a shadow clone to mold it for him, but eventually he’ll get the hang of it.”

“And the Kyuubi?” Tsunade asks sharply.

“I haven’t had to subdue it,” Tenzou answers honestly. He does not need to say _yet_.

“Good.” Tsunade steeples her fingers together, regarding him over her joined hands. “Keep an eye on him and report back to me, Yamato.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tenzou bows, and hesitates. “Tsunade-sama, if I could ask…”

She waves a hand. “Go on."

“I was wondering if there are any more scrolls on the Mokuton? In the Senju archives,” Tenzou clarifies. Tsunade stares at him, her chin resting on her hands, and Tenzou tries to push down his discomfiture. “Or any scrolls that mention it.”

“Grandpa wasn’t one for writing things down,” Tsunade comments lightly. She’s inherited that much from the Shodaime too, Tenzou thinks privately - he’s seen her writing, atrociously illegible like every other medic-nin. “Whatever records there were, Jii-jii was the one taking them down."

It takes a conscious mental leap to associate ‘Jii-jii’ with Senju Tobirama, the second Hokage of Konoha. People often forget that the Nidaime loved children, enough to start an Academy for their education. He probably lavished his own grand-niece with an equal amount of attention.

“And knowing _that_ man,” Tsunade says, leveling a stern gaze at Tenzou, “then he took whatever he could find from the Jii-jii’s archives.”

“I see,” Tenzou says, slightly disappointed.

“Why’d you need more scrolls?” Tsunade tilts her head. “At this point I’d thought you’ve mastered your own Mokuton.”

Tenzou has mastered his own Mokuton, yes, but apparently there was more to the Mokuton than he thought. He remembers, _seaweed release_ , and it’s only through copious amounts of experience that allows Tenzou to keep his blandly neutral expression on his face.

“I wanted to see if it could be used with aquatic plants,” he answers. It could, but he’s not telling her that until Iruka decides to announce it. He’s Konoha, yes, but the people living within Konoha is who he protects. Senpai, Naruto, Iruka, his comrades - each and every one of them makes him feel like a part of this village instead of Kinoe, grown to protect the village and to die without knowing why.

“Why would you?” Tsunade looks honestly baffled. “It’s _wood_ release, not plant release.”

Tenzou swallows. Oops. “It seems. Like a tactical advantage?”

“Is that so,” she says slowly. Her stare is now less stern and more calculating - and while Tsunade may have inherited her ancestor’s terrible gambling habits, Tenzou wonders some of the Nidaime’s intellect had been passed down onto her. Then again, there are reasons why a kunoichi needs to work much harder to prove themselves better than their male peers. “Say, Tenzou. Kakashi was asking me earlier if someone outside a clan could develop a bloodline limit.”

_Senpai, why_. It feels as though Tenzou is reinforcing his own expression with chakra at this point.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” She asks.

“No, ma’am,” he lies. They’re shinobi enough to not call each other out on it. “I’ll take my leave, then.”

“Go ahead,” the fifth Hokage says, and her eyes track him out.

* * *

“Thank you for your hard work!”

Iruka gathers up the pertinent reports and leaves the mission room behind. He knocks on the door to the Hokage’s office, pushing it open only after Tsunade gives him permission to enter the room. As usual, the room is filled with teetering stacks of files and papers; Shizune navigates through the corridor of documents deftly.

“Ah, Iruka-sensei,” Tsunade says.

“Hokage-sama,” he greets her, the title flowing off his tongue much more smoothly than before. Grief is only a dull ache now, brought on by the warmth of his hand curled around a cup of tea, the bitter aftertaste at the back of his throat as he drinks it down. “The reports you asked for.”

The missions desk may be the reception area for shinobi inbound and outbound for missions, but its other less known function is for the assessment of its human resources. As the central area where every shinobi must present themselves before or after their mission, it is simply more efficient to keep track of things such as the number of missions assigned within the week, the compensation paid to the shinobi carrying out the mission, and the status of their shinobi (whether they’re active, off-duty, stationed, on a mission, missing or presumed dead).

It is these reports that Iruka sets down onto Tsunade’s desk. She picks up the first paper and scans through its content. Iruka watches and waits as she repeats this process for every report, and answers accordingly as she asks for clarification.

“Alright then, Iruka-sensei,” she says warmly. “That would be all - unless you have something to ask me too.”

Iruka blinks. “I beg your pardon?”

Tsunade leans forward, looking at him intently. “Your lovers - “

Iruka splutters.

“- were in here earlier,” she continues mercilessly, with blatant disregard for Iruka’s reluctance to discuss his sex life with his Hokage. There’s no shame in having an active sex life, not in Konoha - but there are lines Iruka draw and talking to his highest superior about it is one of them.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Iruka says weakly.

“Kakashi. Yamato. No need to deny it.”

“ _How_ do you know this?"

Tsunade _looks_ at him. They’re all shinobi, and information is their currency. Of course she would know.

“So, what are they up to?” She asks bluntly. “They were in here earlier, asking about the Mokuton and people outside clans gaining bloodline limits.” Her lips twist into a wry grin. “Did you get yourself a Mokuton, sensei?”

A shinobi must never show their emotions - but Iruka’s been thrown off his course by the Hokage talking to him about his _lovers_ that he can only gape at her.

“One for aquatic plants?” She says further. She’s chuckling, but even that peters off when she realizes how Iruka’s voice is strangled silent in his disbelief at her incredible accuracy. It’s in these moments that Iruka wishes that he isn’t quite prone to wearing his emotions on his sleeve, or at least the shinobi equivalent of it.

“No, really?” Tsunade says, standing up. “You have the Mokuton? You, Iruka-sensei?"

There’s a rustle of paper on the side, and Shizune is also staring at Iruka with an equal amount of surprise. Iruka's not going to be caught lying to the Hokage - so he tells the truth. “Yes.”

Tsunade barks out a laugh. “Have you been hiding it all this time? Or did you just find out? No, you must have just found out. I doubt you could have kept it secret for long - the elders would have been all over you if they knew.”

“The elders?”

“The Senju clan elders,” Tsunade says wryly. “They’ve been on my case to produce possible heirs of the Mokuton.” She snorted disparagingly. “As if being the Hokage wasn’t enough. If I didn’t have it, what makes them think that any spawn coming out of me would?”

“But I’m not Senju,” Iruka protests. “Why would they come after me?”

“For the Mokuton, sensei,” Tsunade says impatiently. “Your family, they were from Uzushio? Distant relations aren’t out of the realm of possibility. There’s bound to be some Senju blood marrying out of the Uzumakis. They’ll take any chance for a Mokuton.” She peers at him. “Tenzou mentioned aquatic plants?”

“It’s not a full Mokuton,” Iruka clarifies. “I can only control aquatic plants?”

“Like seaweed?”

“They’re not actually,” Iruka begins, but gives up. “Yes, like seaweed.”

“An aquatic Mokuton,” Tsunade muses. “The elders would take anything at this point.”

“Tsunade-sama,” Shizune says, almost like a warning.

“It’ll be fine, Shizune,” Tsunade grins at Iruka, the gleam in her eye strangely familiar. “Say, Iruka-sensei. Are you interested in being a ward of the Senju clan?”

“What.”

“A ward,” Tsunade says. “Practically part of the clan, considering we have only so many left. You’ll be like Shizune.”

Today is full of revelations. “I thought she was your apprentice."

“Apprentice and ward,” Tsunade corrects. “If I ever kick it, everything I have goes to her. Well, her and Sakura.”

“I see,” Iruka hedges. Why would Tsunade want him as a ward?

Tsunade must see the hesitation on his face. “You’ll get some elders off my back,” Tsunade admits. “They’ll never stop telling me to pop out some babies. They’ll only be happy with a born-and-bred Mokuton, hm? But you having the Mokuton at least kills half of their reasons.”

The thought of more pressure must put a sour expression on his face, because Tsunade immediately changes tack. “You can have a house in the Senju compound, sensei. No rent required.”

The phrase ’no rent required’ grabs Iruka’s attention indivisibly and chokes any reservations Iruka might have had towards being under the Senju banner.

“No rent required?” He repeats, just above a whisper.

“None at all,” Tsunade confirms. “The house is furnished. Move right in.”

Rent takes up almost a third of Iruka’s expenses, even if the chuunin barracks are already heavily subsidized by the administration. He can just imagine all that money freed up to buy new clothes, more vegetables, maybe even a new futon - wait, the house is furnished, so he wouldn’t have to buy that.

He wouldn’t have to buy that!

At this rate, he can actually save up for a trip to the hot springs instead of breaking the bank open for every other surprise expense. Maybe he could order extra simmered pork belly with every meal at Ichiraku instead of just once every three months.

“What about utilities - “

“Covered.”

Utilities too! But there’s one last thing holding Iruka back.

“I won’t change my surname,” he tells her. He’s remaining Umino, even if the Senju elders try to take his head off for it. “That’s final.”

"Fine by me. Senju is more trouble as a name than it’s worth.” Tsunade allows before staring at him intently. “You agree, then.”

One last chance before - oh, fuck it.

“I agree,” Iruka tells her, almost breathless. Maybe Tsunade is taking blatant advantage of his mediocre pay from all his shifts at the Academy and the Missions Desk - but Iruka doesn’t care. There’s only so much room Iruka has to negotiate with.

“Great!” Tsunade walks around the desk to clap him on the back. “It’s settled then. Welcome to the clan, Iruka-sensei. Or, Iruka now, I suppose.”

“Iruka is fine, Tsunade-sama,” Iruka agrees faintly. No rent, no utilities - and free seaweed for the rest of his life. Iruka could cry.

“Shizune, summon the elders. Tell them it’s an emergency meeting.” Shizune steps up, nodding - but there’s a wry twist to her lips that makes Iruka thinks that he might have missed something. “Let’s hit them while the news is still hot, hm?”

“Understood,” Shizune says. She disappears in a whirlwind of leaves, and Tsunade turns to Iruka.

“We're making this official,” Tsunade crows, and there’s a wild eagerness to her that has Iruka suddenly doubting all of his life’s decisions - but he can’t back out of it, not with free rent on the line. “Let’s go, Iruka."

* * *

The meeting of the Senju elders is almost painless once Iruka demonstrates his ability to grow a piece of _konbu_ Shizune had thoughtfully provided for him. The issue is closed immediately the moment Iruka tries to manipulate a block of wood (also provided), forming an embarrassingly large lump on its surface - a lump bigger than any Senju after Senju Hashirama has never been able to produce.

“That’s settled then,” Tsunade says triumphantly, and sweeps out of the room. Shizune seizes Iruka by his sleeve and drags him along before the elders could regain their bearings.

After the meeting, they show him to the house. It’s a lovely house, even if it’s more of the servant’s quarters than an actual house - but Iruka is far from picky. The smaller the house, the easier to clean, and he’s pleased to find two bedrooms - one for Naruto if he ever decides to stay the night.

And if the bed of the master bedroom is too small, well. He’s certain that Tenzou won’t be opposed to growing him another bed and breaking it in with him. They could even include Kakashi this time.

Tsunade leaves to drink now that she’s off the clock, and Shizune sits him down at the kitchen table. She patiently explains to him that as one of the inheritors of the Senju estate, when Tsunade passes away her personal effects would be divided equally among them unless she decides in writing otherwise.

Iruka is suddenly aware that he must have taken quite a fair percentage of Shizune’s portion, previously half of the entire whole.

“Shizune-san,” he says earnestly, “honestly I just want to live closer to the Academy, and not pay for rent and utilities, so please - “

Shizune shakes her head gravely. “Iruka-san,” she says. “Do you know how much debt Tsunade-sama has racked up with her gambling?”

Iruka’s smile slips from his face. The Legendary Sucker, that’s what they called Tsunade.

“Did you know,” she continues, and Iruka has always considered Shizune the most level-headed of his colleagues, to be able to handle Tsunade and remain so genial at the end of the day. He’s having trouble finding that geniality now - all he can see is the same wild-eyed pressure he recognizes in himself - the expenses, the debt, all building up and up and up.

“No,” Iruka says, suddenly dreading whatever she’s about to say next. _Please, no._

“The debt is also inheritable,” Shizune says, executing Iruka with merciless truth. She lays a hand lightly on Iruka’s shoulder, a wan smile on her lips. “I’m sorry.”

_The debt is also inheritable_. The phrase echoes endlessly in his brain. The debt, the debt, the debt.

“What do you mean the debt is _inheritable_?!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all, folks! Looks like being Senju is more trouble than it's worth, and Iruka might consider continuing his konbu business after all.
> 
> I think I might have to apologise for this particular story not having a thematically appropriate ending (one where Kakashi and Tenzou would likely confront Iruka when he starts acting shifty about his Mokuton, and the three of them coming to terms with a weapon of bioterrorism in which hypothetically Root might have been dragged into the mix because that's a handy dandy power and Danzo regrets being so choosy about which orphans he takes from the orphanage) but I think that that's all I want to explore within this verse. If I ever do write that, it might be as a separate thing, but for now I want this story to end on a hilarious note so I can go onto write other things lololol.
> 
> With that, thank you again for reading and sticking with me throughout this fic!

**Author's Note:**

> Tenzou is bae, that's all I have to say.


End file.
